


An Act of Faith

by jonasnightingale



Category: Glee
Genre: Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kurt Hummel Deserves Better, M/M, Redemption, Sebastian Smythe Needs a Hug, background Klaine - Freeform, background warblers - Freeform, more character tags to be added - Freeform, no beta we die like men, once a warbler always a warbler, will make it to NY eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25569259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonasnightingale/pseuds/jonasnightingale
Summary: Post-Dave's suicide attempt, an old Betty White and a CW haired meerkat find shared ground.Moments in their story as it grows from there.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, David Karofsky & Sebastian Smythe, Kurt Hummel & David Karofsky, Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe, Kurt Hummel/The Warblers, Sebastian Smythe & The Warblers
Comments: 27
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “What is building, and rebuilding and rebuilding again, but an act of faith?” - Dave Eggers

He’s not exactly sure what he’s doing here, hands clutched around his bags strap. He knows his eyes are still tinged with red, that there’s still a catch in his voice when his mind wanders. He takes a breath and lets his knuckles rap quickly on the door. No backing out now. 

There’s a rustle and then the door swings open to reveal Sebastian. His hair is a soft mess ungelled and a quick flash of wonderment flits across his features before settling into confusion. “Kurt..” It comes out quiet and broken before he blinks rapidly and clears his throat, adopting a more poised demeanour, “What are you doing here Blache?” 

Kurt lets his eyes adjust to Sebastian in his natural habitat, torn jeans and casual sweatshirt, evidence of fingers running through his hair repeatedly. “Betty White played Rose. If you’re going to throw Golden Girls insults around you could at least get your facts right.” A ghost of a smile creeps onto Sebastian’s face. They stand in awkward silence and Kurt almost regrets the momentary aneurism that led him here. Eventually Sebastian gestures to his room and pushes out “I guess you should come in? Before anyone sees you and gets the wrong idea.” Kurt nods and steps past Sebastian, eyes scanning across the room. 

It’s like all the other Dalton dorms he’s spent time in, pretty basic and filled with dark mahogany furnishings. There’s textbooks cracked open and detailed notes strewn across the desk, lacrosse gear pushed against the wall, novels stacked high on shelves. But there’s no photos, no personal mementoes around, just a sports trophy mostly hidden behind a pile of books. Kurt had planned out exactly what he was going to say in the drive over, but looking at Sebastian he loses the script. The boy before him looks lost, the usual spark behind his eyes extinguished. There’s no fight in him. His hand drifts to his other arm, rubbing at his elbow in a self-conscious gesture. “So, _Rose_ , what brings you to my dorm room?” 

Kurt can feel his throat roughen around the answer as he looks Sebastian in the eye and says “Dave.” Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath before nodding and clutching more tightly to his arm. He mutters out a tired “Yeah.” For just a moment, Kurt wonders how different their lives might have been if their time at Dalton had overlapped; in this moment he could imagine the boy before him as a friend, a companion. 

“Look, Sebastian, I know we’re not anything resembling friends. But the way you were talking the other day… well it seemed like you and Dave have a history. And I thought you could use a… could do with having someone to talk to. I know I’m probably the last person you want to… but if you’re feeling anything like I’m feeling right now, I just wanted to say, I’m here, if you need me.” Kurt straightened his back, waiting for the sharp tongued response, eyes on the floor. But none came. He looked up to Sebastian, found the other boy staring intently at his shoes, lip caught in his teeth. Had he not been looking at him he may have missed the reply, so soft it almost dissipated in the air around them.

“How are you feeling?” 

Kurt took a big breath, rubbing his hand down his face, “Guilty. Exhausted. Furious.” He drops onto Sebastian’s bed without an invitation. “Scared.”

After a moment, the bed dips next to him as Sebastian follows his lead. “I feel awful. Monstrous. Sick. I keep thinking about how Bear Cub had found this one place to be safe and himself and I just threw his insecurities right back in his face. I took away his safe place.”

In another world, Kurt can imagine taking Sebastian’s hand in his, leaning into his side and propping his head on his shoulder. Instead he makes himself speak back, leaving no space for Sebastian to feel too exposed and close up. “Those too. If I had just answered one of those stupid phone calls. Or if his teammate hadn’t seen us on Valentine’s Day. I can’t stop thinking that I could have prevented all of this.”

Sebastian doesn’t know what that means, but Kurt hadn’t pressed for an explanation so he doesn’t either. Instead he turns to look at the boy, tracing his gaze across his closed eyes and pursed hands and utters a soft “No one else really gets it.”

Kurt doesn’t open his eyes or meet his gaze but he does slump further onto the bed and breathe out, “Yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

Most days it’s easy to pretend that nothing between them has changed. When they are trading insults over an exasperated Blaine at the Lima Bean or rolling eyes at each other over Nick’s Skype calls, it’s business as usual. 

But then there’s days where Kurt feels the ground beneath them has shifted unsteadily, where he can’t deny the tug of _something_ between them. Day’s like today. Standing uncomfortable with Sebastian and Blaine and Santana. Waiting for Dave to come home. They’re not much of a welcome party, he knows, but they’re something and they’re there and he hopes that’s enough to lighten Dave’s spirits. 

After a loud (on her part) and stern (on his) argument, Santana had conceded to Kurt’s truce. Had greeted Sebastian with a brisk “Dive-bar” and spent the rest of the day ignoring him. Blaine keeps glancing between them all warily, waiting for the insults to start flying, but he had been happy to see Sebastian and Kurt’s trying to ignore the curl of his gut from watching the two boys embrace. Blaine is there as a supportive boyfriend, as a friendly face of the gay community, but he isn’t entrenched in this mess in the same way and Kurt forgoes the comforting handhold to throw glances at Sebastian, memory of his quiet “ _no one else really gets it_ ” echoing in his mind. 

* * *

He finds it’s easier to compartmentalise when Sebastian’s in his Dalton getup. When he’s so neatly put together it’s so much easier to paint him as two dimensional. In the blazer with the hair slicked up he’s just an entitled rich kid, a sneering meerkat, an obnoxious flirt. 

It’s safe like this. To not question what about Sebastian is so great some of Kurt’s favourite Warblers consider him a friend. To not think about his red eyes and messy hair and how soft and broken he had been. To not entertain for a moment that maybe Sebastian exists outside of playing the villain in his story; that maybe he has his own painful coming out behind him, that maybe he feels just as lost and lonely, that maybe after casually trying to steal Kurt’s boyfriend each day he goes back to his quiet dorm and curls up with a novel and counts the days til he can leave this town behind. 

Kurt had tried once to ask Blaine what it was he and Sebastian talked about, but the curly haired boy had huffed out a defensive reply, disappointed that Kurt was so tripped up on their friendship, insistent that it was all above board. “We’re just _friends_ , Kurt.” And Kurt didn’t know how to explain his curiosity so he let the conversation dissolve into an aborted argument, “I know Blaine, I trust you.” How could he admit to his boyfriend the niggle at the back of his gut that maybe, just maybe, he could like Sebastian? How could he admit it to himself? 

So he meets Sebastians eyes over his coffee cup and throws barbed words his way, falling into the sharp tongue of their banter. It’s nice for a change to not have to make himself smaller, to fight back and bare no consequences. The grin on Sebastian’s face makes his own lips quirk up even as they volley back increasingly obscure insults. When Blaine returns and interrupts with a frustrated “Come on, can’t we be civil?”, Kurt muffles his smile into his coffee cup and tries not to think too hard about the amused glances Sebastian keeps throwing his way.


	3. Chapter 3

Jeff runs towards him with arms outstretched, wrapping Kurt in a tight hug. It’s regionals and he’s sure Rachel’s going to shout something their way about spies or traitors but Kurt can’t help the smile that spills across his face as his arms return the embrace. Dalton may never have been his home, but he has missed the Warblers none-the-less. Of course he tries to not mention it, tries to not think about it. Blaine left all that behind for _him_ , and he tries to not get too caught up in the convoluted mix of grief and guilt and gratitude that accompany thoughts of Dalton. Puck is watching them with a soft grin but makes no move to interrupt the reunion. Kurt pulls back and runs his hands absently across Jeff’s shoulders, brushing invisible lint from his blazer in a familiar motion. He really has missed him, and Trent, and Nick, and Wes.

He feels more than sees Puck tense beside him. And there’s Sebastian stalking their way. Jeff wiggles his eyebrows at Kurt conspiratorially and Kurt wants to throw him a confused look but morphs his face into neutral disdain as he instead cocks his head towards Sebastian. Sebastian’s mouth quirks into a deep half-smirk and he shoves his hands deep in his pockets, “Casper.” Kurt meets his gaze head-on, “Stretch.” He’s quietly relieved to see that spark behind Sebastian’s eyes has returned, his smile reaching them in a way it hadn’t the last time they’d traded quips. And no, he’s not going to unpack that, choosing to push it aside as a side effect of being a decent human. The lights flicker above them and Mr Shue is ushering them all towards the auditorium. Jeff pulls him forward for another quick hug before rushing off, shouting out a “break a leg!” back towards him and grabbing Sebastian’s arm on the way towards the wings. Sebastian turns back towards Kurt as Jeff pulls him away, throwing a little nod his way. And Kurt tries to not puzzle over that gesture, tries to ignore Puck’s raised eyebrow, tries to not linger on Sebastian’s figure on that stage. 

He can’t reconcile the versions of Sebastian Smythe. The arrogant rich kid trying to steal his boyfriend, the studious nerd tutoring Trent, the slushy-wielding criminal, the shaky hands raking through messy hair, the insult-throwing bully, the athlete calling Blaine to talk NFL, the regular flirt at Scandals, the boy with no photos in his dorm, the indisputably talented performer commanding the stage. 

Kurt tenses when Sebastian clocks them in the audience, when Blaine smiles big and toothy at the boy on stage and Sebastian winks in return. He wonders if they will ever get past this. If five years from now he will stop flinching when Blaine’s phone blinks Sebastian’s name. If there’s any way out of this that doesn’t end in heartbreak and circular arguments and insults about his clothes and hobbies. 

Dave tells him that Sebastian and he have formed a kind of friendship since his return, an ally-ship over drinks at Scandals. That Sebastian has introduced him to some guys. That Sebastian has helped him feel more comfortable embracing who he is. And he’s glad, really he is. But Sebastian has charmed the gay men in Kurt’s life and he feels the yawn between their relationships, feels Sebastian winning. Kurt feels alone, if he’s being completely honest. 

He embraces the Warbler’s after the curtain’s come down. Ignoring Rachel’s outraged yell about consorting with the enemy and rubbing his hand affectionately through Nick’s hair in a quick noogie. He tries to ignore the tight hug Sebastian and Blaine exchange too, reasoning it’s no different from what he’s currently doing with the mess of boys limbs around him. Puck even deigns to grab Trent in a rough handshake and “good show” as he claps Kurt on the back to bring him back across the stage. Kurt steadfastly avoids Sebastian’s eyes as he heads back to the New Directions, blowing a kiss to the team he left behind. When Blaine comes back to them he holds the boys hand just a little bit tighter, feels just a little bit less alone when the shorter boy presses a warm kiss against his cheek and squeezes back. 

They’re on the drive home, Blaine dozing against his shoulder in the back seat of his Dad’s car when Kurt’s phone buzzes with two texts from an unknown number.   
~ Looked good out there Betty White. ~  
~ You know, for an old broad. ~  
Kurt sighs and shoves his phone back into his pocket, leaving the messages unanswered. He tries to hold on to the joy of their win, the comfort of Blaine’s soft snore against his cheek, the warmth of Trent and Nick and Jeff wrapping him in their boisterous hugs; tries to ignore the flare of _whatever_ that Sebastian ignites.


	4. Chapter 4

Working at the Lima Bean has been easier than expected. Sure it was a matter of putting aside his pride, but that was nothing altogether new. He was good with the customers, handy with the expresso machine, and already eying off a new pair of boots to blow the first pay-check on. Things could be worse. Of course, perhaps that was jinxing it a touch.

His head turns up with a friendly smile as a shadow falls across the counter, and Kurt instantly feels a chill come over him, like a bucket of cold water spilling down his spine or a slushy in the face. The memory of Sebastian’s words comes back to haunt him “ _you’ll have a lima bean apron and that gay face_.” Kurt stands taller, prepares for the verbal attack. There’s a moment where Sebastian’s brow dents into a confused furrow before he stumbles over a surprisingly neutral “Hey Kurt… uhm, can I please grab a triple Americano.” Kurt stares open-mouthed at the taller boy for a beat before busying himself with processing the order and Sebastian shoves a ten dollar note in the tip jar when Kurt’s attention is on the til. As the Dalton boy moves to wait at the collection counter he leans closer to the machine and quietly throws out “Oh and Ivory? Try not to spit in it.” Kurt meets his humoured gaze with an overly sweet smile and sharp eyes, “Don’t you worry J.Crew, I have no interest in my spit being anywhere near your mouth.” 

He finds his eyes drifting over to the corner table Sebastian’s commandeered more than he likes to admit. Kurt knows from Nick’s ranting that Sebastian is scholastically apt, often found buried in text books and notes, but it’s just one of those things Kurt won’t think about, one of those things that makes the boy too fully fleshed, too human. Humans are vulnerable and messy and Kurt doesn’t like to think of the boy who nearly blinded Blaine as anything redeemable. And yet he’s unable to stop his gaze tracing the tension between Sebastian’s eyes as he spins the pen in his hand and references another text tucked beneath his notebook. His blazer is hung neatly on the back of the chair and his sleeves are rolled roughly up his forearms. He keeps lifting his mug to take a draw of coffee only to find it empty and place it back on the table; an idiosyncrasy Kurt can't help bit find surprisingly adorable. 

He’s still watching Sebastian when Blaine and Tina walk through the door and Kurt catches the flash of annoyance on Sebastian’s face before turning to look at who has arrived. He clocks Sebastian breathing out a sigh and running his hand harshly across his forehead, then giving his head a swift shake, painting on a smirk and slipping the Dalton blazer back on. Kurt turns his attention to Tina and Blaine as Sebastian shoves his books roughly into his satchel. Blaine reaches across the counter to give his hand a quick squeeze and smiles out a “Hey boyfriend” and Kurt makes sure to draw a love heart on his coffee cup. But he’s also waiting to see what’s coming next. And sure enough as Blaine and Tina resume their conversation and Kurt turns his attention to helping Jenny with the orders, Sebastian swoops in. “Well if it isn’t Bird Flu and Fred Astaire.” Blaine throws a quick glance at Kurt and shifts his weight, “Hey Sebastian.” Kurt’s taking orders again and loses track of their conversation but his attention snags on the empty coffee cup Sebastian is nursing as if it’s full while he makes his escape from the shop. 

Kurt learns that no, Sebastian doesn’t live at the Lima Bean, but he does come in every couple of days and sequester a table out of sight to study. Usually he’s in his Dalton uniform but on Tuesdays he walks in in his Lacrosse gear and orders a Caramel Macchiato instead. He usually stays for a couple hours, though if any New Directions appear in that time he hastily shoves his books out of sight and pulls out his phone or disappears. Unless it’s Blaine, then it’s all eye-fucking and side grins. But Sebastian’s always alone, and he’s always lugging around enough books to fill the table, and each day he puts a ridiculous amount in the tip jar when he thinks Kurt’s not watching. It all makes him harder to hate. But it also makes Kurt more wary of the texts Blaine smiles embarrassedly at, the incoming calls during their bedtime moisturising routine. 

Mostly they ignore each other, though if Kurt sometimes catches Sebastian watching him with a mixture of concern and confusion on his face, well he chooses to pretend he doesn’t. Just like he chooses to pretend it’s normal that he avoids mentioning the boys presence to Blaine. 

***

Until that night he hadn’t thought much of Sebastian since leaving Lima. Sometime’s he’d pop up in the back of a Skype call, or Dave would mention his name in conversation, but that was all. He was lumped into the generic descriptor of “the Warblers” in Blaine’s dialogue, and Kurt didn’t need the mental stress of imagining the two boys sharing coffees at the Lima Bean. But when Blaine said he’d cheated, Sebastian’s green eyes and devilish grin flicked into his mind. He remembered what Sebastian had said last year “ _I’ll have Blaine_ ”, remembered how he’d felt at regionals wondering if they’d ever find a way past this. Guess he had his answer.

He’s not sure how the Warbler’s found out, probably his drunk teary call to Wes after a couple bottles too many of cabernet. Wes’ heart is always in the right place but the old Captain did have a way of spreading word around. Kurt’s phone chirps with an unknown number text as he walks into combat class. 

[15:12] ~ So the reign of “Klaine” has fallen. ~

He knows it’s from Sebastian from the previous two texts back at regionals. Kurt wishes he was strong enough to type out a response without falling to tears in class but he’s too numb to be witty so he shoves his phone deep in his bag and ignores it til the end of day. He doesn’t pull it out again until he’s at home, curled around some cauliflower poppers with the Golden Girls bickering on his screen. He’s surprised to see more messages from Sebastian.

[15:24] ~ It wasn’t me. ~

[15:27] ~ I know my word doesn’t mean a lot to you, maybe nothing, but for whatever it **is** worth, I swear to you Kurt, it wasn’t me. ~

[15:27] ~ Besides, gel-helmets were _so_ last year. ~

Kurt thinks about leaving them on read but there’s a sliver of guilt thats worked it's way into his conscience about Sebastian. After those discussions about Dave, after dancing around each other those weeks at the Lima Bean, Kurt feels almost bad for jumping to the assumption Sebastian so clearly expected him to. He types out a quick response before he can overthink it,  
[17:48] ~ I know. ~

He watches the ‘typing’ dots appear and disappear for a few minutes, wondering what else Sebastian could possibly have to say, before tuning back in to Blanche and Dorothy’s drama. Across the country Sebastian sits in the Dalton locker-rooms trying to word a joke about slushies and bowties. He groans at every attempt and eventually gives up, but as he stands to continue packing up he saves Kurt’s number as a contact. No snarky names, no ghost emojis, just an ordinary ‘Kurt Hummel’ logged in his contact book. It feels significant in some way, like admitting to a future in which he’ll need it. 


	5. Chapter 5

He hadn’t heard much about Kurt since the day he’d shown up at the Lima Bean to an unfamiliar face behind the counter. The occasional mention by Blaine or Niff but nothing more constant. He knew about NYADA - Jeff had risked suspension by jumping to his feet mid Theology lesson when he’d received the text - and he knew about the cheating - from Dave grinding his teeth at the Scandals jukebox - but he didn’t know the more general details. He didn’t know how New York was treating Kurt, or how the boy was putting up with his exceedingly annoying flat-mates; he also didn’t know why not knowing bothered him. He’d been in New York last month for his early admissions interview and had considered reaching out, but what would he say? “Hey sorry I tried to steal and blind your boyfriend but can you show me where to get a decent coffee in this town?”? “I’m not trying to get in Blaine’s pants anymore… lets get a drink?”? 

He didn’t know Klaine had rekindled their relationship, that choice piece of gossip seemed to have skipped the Warblers altogether, but it didn’t come as a big surprise. Blaine had always spoken about the breakup in temporary terms, thrown around phrases like “for now” and “just a breather”. He’d called Sebastian up one night for a Scandals dance night, said he needed to blow off some steam because Kurt wasn’t returning his calls - like he hadn’t just shattered Kurt’s heart by fucking some random dude from Facebook. A part of Sebastian wanted to fall into old tricks, let a couple drinks turn into a couple too many and allow the dancing to lead to more, but when he saw Blaine under the flashing lights his mind flashed to another boy dancing, to a taller form blocking him on the sticky floor. He remembered Kurt a month later in his dorm, standing so uncertain yet so resolute, offering up a part of himself. He’d danced with Blaine, and plied him with water between drinks, and eventually dropped him home with a sigh. He almost didn’t recognise himself these days. 

But if Blaine and Kurt were getting hitched, hell, he couldn’t not do his bit. He owed them both at least that. And if a part of him was hoping for fireworks and drama and meltdowns - well he had to be there for them too. Rose petals raining, every show choir in the State dancing through the halls of Dalton… Blaine certainly knows how to pull off his grand romantic gestures. Sebastian is trying to be happy for them, really he is, but there is some tug low in his gut that says otherwise. He paints a grin on his face and leans nonchalantly against the wall as Blaine speaks about soulmates and the whole room swoons, but Sebastian can’t get the look on Kurts face as he approached the school out of his mind. Kurt says yes and the building goes up in applause and Sebastian cheers as he tries to ignore the flit of panic that courses through him. 

He knows who he is in their story - just the villain. Just a diversion, a hurdle to overcome, a leer and a sharp tongue and a loaded slushy. He tries to not let that get to him as he claps Blaine on the back and shakes Kurt’s dads hand and bites his tongue when one of the New Directions practically bowls him over. 

There is one tiny moment as Kurt lets all the friends around him squeeze him in embraces and congratulations where their eyes meet over some girls shoulder, and Sebastian recognises the weariness in the boys look hidden behind the smiles and humility and gratitude. He can’t avert his gaze as it traces over his face. He hasn’t noticed the party around them dispersing until Trent puts a warm hand on his shoulder and mutters a reticent “Sebastian? We should go.” close to his ear. He follows the boy out in a daze, turning to grab one last glance at the glowing couple behind them. He knows the name for it now, what it is that knits their souls together despite history and better sense - deep down they’re the same breed of person, they’re survivors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know... **shrugs**


	6. Chapter 6

It’s strange to be back here, back in the musky halls and tiled corridors that had promised such sanctuary all those years ago. He almost hadn’t come, but Jeff had called him _every day_ for three weeks to persuade him before Nick just cracked it and booked him a non-refundable flight. So here he was. Walking down the staircase where a cute boy had grabbed his hand for the first time, down the staircase where he’d promised to tie his life to Blaine’s. It had been months since the tan-line on his ring finger had faded, but sometimes he still felt the phantom weight of it against his skin. Blaine was going to be here today too, and that surprisingly makes it easier to step through the large doors into the sunshine soaked Warblers practice room. They were friends, they would always _be_ friends, and as Jeff comes barreling towards him, Kurt’s grateful for all the lifelong connections Dalton gave him. 

Jeff’s throwing his arms around Kurt in a tight embrace and Trent has spotted the countertenor and yelled a surprised “Kurt!”, quickly navigating across the room to reach him. Blaine’s smiling at them amused from the couch he’s perched against and Nick’s heading their way with the drink Jeff had all but thrown at him in his haste. And there’s the weight of a pair of eyes boring into him, but he doesn’t look up. He knows that somewhere in the room, Sebastian has clocked him, is probably sporting a cheeky smirk and balancing on his tongue some insult about Kurt’s attire. 

He hasn’t spoken to Sebastian for years, since a couple weeks after Dave’s return from hospital. But there has been scattered moments between that Kurt doesn’t know how to place in the narrative he’s spun about the other boy. Moments like the hamper that showed up at his door a week after Finn’s death; it was tied with black and red ribbons and held a massive cheesecake, an expensive bottle of scotch, weird tiki style Golden Girls cups, an organic bath-bomb and matching body scrub, and a stunning blackbird brooch. A teary phone-call later and Nick had admitted that Sebastian had suggested the care package. A few hours and a couple drinks down, settled into a warm bath, he’d hustled up the guts and good manners to message Sebastian a simple   
[18:47] ~ Thank you for the gift basket. ~  
It wasn’t long before the responding buzz and Kurt was confused to find no nick-names or diffusing jokes in the reply.  
[18:49] ~ Once a Warbler, always a Warbler. We’re all so sorry for your loss Kurt. ~

He lets Jeff almost asphyxiate him, lets Trent pull at his Vogue.com vault jacket appreciatively. Nick asks about the flight, about his family, and Kurt falls into the easy camaraderie of these men. It is just simple with them, it always had been. There had never been the competitive riffs that McKinley had fostered, the clique fissions and rude slurs. Dalton had been boring but it had been safe, and Kurt had been so surprised when upon his transfer out so many of the boys had kept in touch. A part of him had thought, back then, that their friendship was a fringe benefit of Blaine’s attention, or a welcoming ‘pity the new kid’ thing, but they’d proved him wrong time and again since. He soaks in the boisterous chatter around him, listening to Jeff groan about Harvard while Nick rebuffs with anecdotes from MIT. Trent ended up at Williams College, and the stories he tells of Mountain Day and all-night school-wide trivia contests make NYADA’s traditions seem remiss. When Blaine wanders over to hand him a flute of sparkling, Kurt drops his arms lazily around the shorter boy in familiarity. He can still feel hot eyes on him but he nestles further into the dulcet tones around him, letting Blaine tell the tales of NYADA as he watches the small changes in their friends, grins at their obvious excitement for these latest chapters. 

It’s what he gets for gorging on the cheese platter, some kind of karmic justice for being lured in by the snacks table. Sebastian Smythe is right there when he turns around, grinning at Kurt as he casually reaches around him to snag a grape and pop it into his mouth. He’s wearing a white henley tee under a smart charcoal blazer and Kurt can’t help the way his eyes quickly rake over Sebastians form. Sebastian crosses his arms and smiles wider, mirth lacing his tone as he greets, “Hello Kurt.” Kurt turns his attention back to the cheese platter as he responds with a only slightly sarcastic, “Hello Sebastian.” When he turns around again Sebastian is still watching him, there’s an amusement in his eyes but it’s not the pointed laughter Kurt’s used to, it’s something warm and unfamiliar. After a beat Sebastian trails his eyes slowly down Kurt’s black turtleneck all the way to his boots before slowly meeting Kurt’s confused gaze, “New York looks good on you.” There’s no mocking in his eyes, just an uncharacteristic openness. Kurt moves his mouth to respond… something, he’s not sure how to respond yet, he’s not entirely sure what has just happened, but he’s saved the indecision by the arrival of a group of uniform clad boys throwing open the doors. The current Warblers swarm into the room and burst into song - as they are wont to do. As the first notes of Uptown Funk fill the room the ex-Warblers let out hollers and cheers and turn their attention to their successors. After a flawlessly executed first verse the Warblers seperate and move around the room, pulling their alumni into the fray. An athletic red-haired kid grasps Kurt’s arm and plies him to the music and Sebastian follows with a laugh. By the time the song ends the fingers of warmth that Kurt’s been feeling have taken over and he feels giddy with happiness, glad to be here with these people. He’d worried about being an outsider - after all he’d attended Dalton for only a semester - but he feels part of it all, when they said Warbler for life they really meant it. Kurt claps and wolf-whistles with the rest of the alums as the Warbler’s move to their final position. The other show choirs sure have their competition cut out for them this year. His gaze takes in his old classmates, their matching grins, their excited chatter. He’d seen Nick execute a serious backflip across the room and some of the newbies are now approaching him with awe. 

Kurt can feel the heat in his cheeks as his logic comes back to him with a jolt, as he realises that he had just been dancing and singing with Sebastian Smythe. There had been a lot of eye contact and laughter, grins, at one point Sebastian had even pulled him into a sharp spin. Kurt quickly dashes his eyes around the room to see if anyone is looking at them odd and when his gaze settles again on Sebastian there’s a hint of bashfulness to the other boys expression. Sebastian shoves his hands into his pockets and bites his lower lip for just a moment and Kurt’s smile drops at the memory that surfaces. The question surprises him, “Can I get you a drink?”. His face must convey something because Sebastian nods towards the mobile bar. Seems Kurts mind has taken a leave of absence as he hears the words out his mouth before he’s even considered them, “Sure. Just… no Shirley Temple this time.” he jokes. Sebastian smiles and it’s soft and coloured with contrition and something like hope and Kurt feels his heart flutter. _Oh no._ Yeah sure it has been a while since he’s been with anyone, or since there’s been any serious interest really, but Kurt tries to silently school his heart back into submission - now is _not_ the time. As Sebastian heads towards the bar Kurt swings his head around to find a way out. His eyes land on Blaine and he tries to convey urgency with them as Sebastian returns holding two flutes of sparkling. Kurt takes the offered glass, careful to avoid Sebastian’s fingers as he lifts it from his hand and there’s one loaded moment where their eyes meet. One padded moment where there’s no blustering or teasing and it feels like a whole universe could exist in the bubble between them. And then Blaine’s clapping Sebastian on the back and telling them with a laugh “ _Please_ no talk of meerkats or chipmunks or gay faces or girl clothes tonight okay? Let’s just pretend to be the upstanding members of society our parents paid thousands in schooling to make us.” And Sebastian turns his attention to Blaine, of course, and Kurt tries to fight the flare of annoyance in his gut, and when Trent walks past he jumps on the excuse to leave the conversation. Blaine’s modesty is no longer his to protect. 

The party is dying down, current Warblers back in their dorms for curfew, alumni leaving for late flights home or the comfort of hotel beds. Nick is practically asleep against Jeff’s shoulder where they sit on the couch. And still the eyes are on him. He looks up and finds Sebastian leaning against a wall across the room, half listening to a group conversation around him. Their gaze locks and neither looks away. Wes and Jeff and David don’t notice, so Kurt just holds the gentle stare. It feels like an unspoken dare, and Kurt’s never been one to back down. He lets himself for just a minute entertain the idea of taking the taller boy home, or moving the party to Scandals where he could hide behind flashing lights and loud music and lowered inhibitions. It’s been so damn long and Sebastian’s heavy gaze is making him feel jittery and warm. But Blaine’s wasted, dancing in the corner with Hunter, and Kurt knows his night is going to end with being the dutiful ex-fiance and pouring Blaine’s drunk ass into his dad’s car, dropping him off at Karovsky’s on the way home. 

It’s definitely for the best. 

But Kurt can’t help raking his eyes down Sebastian just once more as he manoeuvres Blaine out the door. 


	7. Chapter 7

It’s been so long since he’s had a night this fun. After Dani’s stressful week, band night had swiftly dissolved into dinner and drinks, which had turned into clubbing. So here they were, blowing off steam amidst the strobing lights. His cheeks actually hurt from the sheer amount of laughing and smiling that has taken place. He loves these humans. Elliott’s found his way to the pole in the centre of the room and is flipping around it to cheers and wolf-whistles. Dani stayed at the bar after their last round of shots, and is now propped on a bar stool cradling a cocktail and trailing her fingers up a girls arm. Kurt smiles. His eyes are closed, feeling the beat of the music thrum through him. He can let loose here, with Dani and Elliott and the general gyrating mass of NYC clubbing. 

When a form comes up close behind him Kurt breathes in and smiles with his eyes still closed, the swivelling lights painting colours across their lids. A hand lands gently on his hip and he leans further back into the stranger, inhaling the musky scent that envelopes him. Both hands are on his hips now and their bodies are pressed tightly together. They sway like that, hips moving in tandem, and Kurt takes satisfaction from the uneven breath pushed out against his neck. He opens his eyes lazily and clocks Dani and Elliott, laughing a little as Elliott meets his gaze with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle and a grin. All he can see of the man is dirty blonde hair pushed against his cheek, but he can feel the lips hovering at his shoulder, the long fingers digging further into his hips. Kurt reaches his arms back and loops them around the mans neck. Then the lips are making contact, brushing tantalisingly across his hot skin. They track gently from his shoulder to his collarbone to his neck to his jawline. Kurt pushes back, burrowing further into the shirt against his back, picking up the pace of their dance to feel the swing of their bodies more frantically. There’s a little burst of breath before each touch of lips against skin and in whatever remote corner of his brain is still handling logic, Kurt wonders if the man is saying something, it feels almost like a prayer. As the lips wrap around the cusp of his ear, Kurt lets out a breathy moan and feels the man pressed tightly against him respond. With the lips against his ear Kurt can distinguish the word, “Sorry”, over and over, a confession smoothed away with a kiss. “Sorry” and a kiss to his temple, “Sorry” and a kiss to his hairline, “Sorry” and a kiss against his pulse point. Kurt angles his head to give the lips more space to roam. He doesn’t care what this stranger is sorry for; for the first time in longer than he cares to admit, Kurt wants more. He spins in place, hands already reaching up to meet the strangers face.

The instant their eyes meet Kurt feels himself freeze. He’s tense, shoulders tight and high, body no longer lost to the music and heat. They’re frozen in place in the middle of the dance floor, but Sebastian’s hands are still on Kurt’s hips and he notices the thumbs rubbing soothing circles on his skin. Sebastian doesn’t look surprised or apologetic or even proud; Kurt thinks that for the first time Sebastian’s gaze is just straight on. No jokes no barbs, just Sebastian. But there’s a dash of vulnerability in the eyes that he’s not used to. He’s seen glimmers of the other boys soft-side over the years, moments where he felt he’d seen behind some screen he was not supposed to, but nothing like this. Sebastian’s eyes are glued to his and they’re open and daring and bright with something Kurt is hesitant to categorise as arousal. 

Someone near them bumps messily against Kurt but Sebastian keeps him rooted in place. The music is still loud around them, the quiet pull of breathe pushed through lips lost to the din. He wants to feel those lips again, the way they ghosted across him like a salve. Kurt keeps their gaze locked as he slowly lifts his arms to loop back around Sebastian’s neck, inching further into his space. Sebastian takes in a quick deep inhale and Kurt feels the hands on his hips squeeze briefly. They’ve made it this far. Kurt resumes the swing of their hips to the music and lays his head against Sebastian’s shoulder. 

It’s a far cry from Scandals in every sense. Not for the first time, Kurt wonders if this is how it all would have been had he and Sebastian overlapped at Dalton; if they would have been sharing war stories and exchanging crass jokes over the sticky dance floor of that place instead of trying to stake their claim on a wasted Blaine. Would they have helped each other through the hospital door to visit Dave. Would dreams about New York have been bigger than just Broadway and NYADA. 

The breath ghosting across his temples is comforting and exhilarating and Kurt feels his own breath stop as Sebastian’s lips skim across his hair. He notices Elliott and Dani on his periphery, close enough for an easy out but keeping out of the way. They’re bloody good friends and Kurt’s so glad to have them. High school Kurt didn’t dare dream he’d have people like that in his life. That said, he never dared dream about getting hot and heavy for Sebastian Smythe in a New York City queer club either. 

But here he is, pulse thrumming hard within his chest as he anxiously awaits the next hint of Sebastian’s lips on him. Their forms are melded together, pelvises glued recklessly against each other. Sebastian’s hands have migrated up the back of Kurt’s shirt and the hot press of flesh has Kurt’s cheeks a shade of red as his hands rake up messily through Sebastian’s hair, pulling the boys lips closer to his skin. “Sorry…. Sorry… Sorry…” Sebastian’s voice is rough and breathy with each kiss and Kurt thinks he could listen to just the coarse timbre of his voice whispering this penance forever. But the kisses are too soft, to sweet for the pressure building up inside him. 

Kurt rolls his head so their lips finally meet in the unexpected kiss and Sebastian starts against him, ripping his head back to stare intently at Kurt for the beat it takes for their resolve to fail. And Kurt’s pulling Sebastian’s face roughly towards him and Sebastians arms are trying to bring Kurt’s hips impossibly closer and the rest of the club ceases to exist outside of this moment and this sensation. The passion within it shocks Kurt, a release of pent up tension he didn’t realise was between them. It’s not rough but it’s urgent and demanding and Kurt wants nothing more than to wrap his legs around the other boys waist and have him press him against a wall. The want that rips through him makes him gasp and he feels the flicker of a smirk when Sebastian responds with a groan and heavy look through hooded eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to stop here as I'm conflicted where to go next.... What's the vote? Do we want interruption and subsequent frustration and angst, or just some good ol' fashioned getting it on?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it's been a long time since I wrote smut.

The cold burst of street air hits them as they stumble through the clubs door. Sebastian’s hand is gripped tightly around his but Kurt still worries as they step into the pool of a streetlights glow and the sounds of the city return around them that the spell will be broken. And he needs it to not be. His pants are uncomfortable against his excitement and there’s a bright blush snaking up his neck and across his cheeks. He knows his lips are pink from their makeout session on the dance floor, but he glances at Sebastian and is grateful to know comparatively he doesn’t look nearly as destroyed. He’d really done a number on Sebastian’s hair with his wandering fingers, he was loath to admit it but between the birdsnest of a hairdo and the grin stretching across his cheeks, Sebastian looked ridiculously cute, almost bashful. Another flare of want shudders through Kurt and he pushes Sebastian against the nearest building, fusing their lips back together. Sebastian responds with vigor, hands dragging along Kurt’s sides. There’s a softness to this whole exchange that Kurt had not expected. Sebastian is firm but gentle, attentive, his hands are adoring in their touch, there’s a lot of eye contact. It should throw Kurt, but it just makes him push firmer against the mans body, draw him into a more scorching kiss. 

Sebastian slips a leg between Kurt’s and Kurt lets out an involuntary moan. His hips buck against the leg and he lets his head fall to Sebastian’s shoulder. He hardly recognises the voice that slips from between his kiss-swollen lips, “More. I need… There’s an alley, let’s just…” Sebastian's hands are back on his hips, stilling Kurt’s frantic movements. “Kurt, if we’re doing this, we are not doing it in some filthy alleyway,” Sebastian’s voice dips, his mouth dragging against the rim of Kurts ear as he continues “The things I want to do to you require a soft bed and uninterrupted time.” Kurt lunges at Sebastian for another fiery kiss, dragging his hand down past the other boys waistband to rub at the bulge there and Sebastian pulls back to rest his head against the building and sigh, pulling out his phone to get a lyft. 

Sebastian’s hand on Kurt’s leg burns the whole car ride. 

The instant they’re through the door Kurt has Sebastian pinned against it, mouths fusing together as Kurt’s fingers start unbuttoning his own shirt. Sebastian laughs then swiftly pulls off his tee and throws it vaguely in the direction of his room. His mouth follows Kurt’s fingers as the shirt reveals more and more skin, his lips brushing against surprisingly toned abs until they’re at Kurt’s belt and Sebastian falters. “Bedroom?” The voice that comes out of him is uncharacteristically uncertain but Kurt doesn’t notice as he pulls him into another messy kiss and moves in the direction of the doors across the room. 

Kurt moans as he grinds down onto Sebastian. Sebastian’s breath is coming in short pants and he lets out his own deep groan as Kurt’s hands reach to unzip him. “Kurt”. Kurt surges forward to kiss him more, nudging Sebastian’s hip to get him to lift them to assist in removing his pants. Getting Kurt out of his proves less simple, and Sebastian finds himself laughing as he lays prone on the bed watching Kurt doing a little shimmy dance to get them down. Kurt returns the smile, valiant, as he discards the jeans beside the bed and crawls back towards the man. 

Sebastian flips them, slowing down their speed as he kisses Kurt deeply, thoroughly, as he works a lazy hicky into the mans neck. His hand around Kurt keeps a dawdling pace, pulling teasingly along him as Kurt gasps and twitches beneath him. Sebastian has dropped his head onto Kurt’s shoulder, whole body tense and sweating as they build up a torturous rub. Kurt’s eyes meet his with a furrowed brow, “You’re shaking.” It’s true, there’s a persistent quiver between Sebastian’s shoulder blades, a tremble through his hands. He takes in a deep breath and laughs out an embarrassed sigh, ducking his head to kiss at Kurts adams apple, his voice is wrecked when he admits “I’m… I’m kinda nervous. God I’ve, I’ve just wanted this for so long, Kurt.” 

Kurt’s hand drifts to the mans cheek, and he pants out “Me too.” He hadn’t realised it, or hadn’t admitted it maybe, that the sharp tongue and sparkling green eyes that brought him to climax that last year in Lima didn’t belong to some fictional stranger, that the barbed banter back then had left him flushed and excited, that it wasn’t just working at the Limabean that had him frustrated. “Oh Sebastian,” he moans “at the Warblers reunion last year, I just wanted… I wanted…” Kurt surges up to wrap his hands tightly in Sebastians hair, pulling him into a messy kiss and swapping their positions. Sebastian pulls back with heavy lidded eyes, hips bucking, “What did you want Kurt?” Kurt considers lying, but with Sebastian beneath him so honest and pliant and waiting, Kurt just trails a finger up his length and tells the truth “I wanted your mouth. I had to pull over on the way home to… imagine it, you on your knees…” Sebastian’s breathing picks up, his pupils blown wide. “Second drawer.” he directs, and Kurt reaches to pull out lube and condoms. “Fuck me Kurt.”

Kurt works a finger into Sebastian, then two, losing himself in the noises the other man makes, a mantra of “Fuck, more, yes, Kurt, please” that leaves Kurt aching and desperate. Sebastian’s hands are everywhere, grabbing, stroking. Between the feel of Sebastian around him and the sounds Sebastian makes as Kurt thrusts into him for the first time, Kurt struggles to not lose it right there. It feels so good and it’s been so long, and no one has ever, _ever_ made him feel so sexy and powerful as Sebastian has tonight. As weird as that may be. He starts to move, rocking in and out with abandon as he feels the draw of release closer and closer. Sebastian is a mess beneath him, meeting each thrust hungrily, working his hand in violent strokes to chase oblivion. “Say my name Kurt, please, please say it.” Kurt falters in his thrust and his body shudders in lust at the gravel in Sebastian’s tone. “Sebastian, Sebastian, yes, so close.” Sebastian is a flurry of distracted kisses and aborted sentences, strangled “Kurt”, “I want”, “Yes”, “Please”, and Kurt responds in kind, growling the other boys name against the bob of his throat. They have a hand clasped tightly together beside Sebastian's head and in a distant part of his brain Kurt notes how intimate it is, how the steady squeeze of their fingers makes this all feel so much more. 

Sebastian pulls him back to the bed, drawing lazy kisses down his chest as Kurt is still struggling to refind his breath. He revels in how thoroughly fucked Sebastian looks, pupils a lusty black, hair sticking up at all angles, gaze heavy. Kurt’s legs are still shaking as he reaches for his discarded underwear. Sebastian’s hand loops around his wrist, and their eyes meet. Kurt’s surprised at the panic he sees in the other boys gaze, haze lifted and brow creased. “Wait.” Kurt hesitates in his motion, waiting for more than that single word to break the awkward silence between them. But Sebastian just stares at him, mouth agape. Kurt moves to collect his shirt from across the room and steps back into his jocks. When Sebastian speaks, the voice is so far from what had been panting in his ear minutes ago, this voice is sad and vulnerable and reaching. Kurt turns to see the boy with his eyes squeezed tightly closed, perched backwards on his knees with sheet pulled against his chest. “I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of, back then.” Sebastian’s eyes open and his gaze meets Kurt’s, dropping the sheet he had been clutching like a lifeline, “Come back to bed Kurt, let me show you how sorry I am.” Kurt thinks of all the history between them, all the mistakes and mis-steps and moments where he had thought ‘ _maybe in a different world_ ’… He leaves the shirt, drops back onto his knees on the mattress and lets Sebastian’s relieved exhale drift between them before hungry lips meld together once more.


End file.
